


Speak the language of flowers

by Unionjackbrolly



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Floriography, Florist!Jehan, I'm sorry for the possible mistakes it's 2 am, Jehan is a florist, M/M, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unionjackbrolly/pseuds/Unionjackbrolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre is on an errant to buy flowers for his mother's birthday at the florist they used to frequent. However, he is surprised to see a different florist, who is infinitely more interesting than the previous owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak the language of flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Itsapon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsapon/gifts).



Combeferre dragged Enjolras along, crossing the nearly empty street towards the florist that Combeferre's mother had always brought him to when he'd been a small boy. “It sure has a -” Enjolras paused to raise a sceptical eyebrow “rustic look to it.” he finished and fully looked at Combeferre who had a hard time not rolling his eyes at his friend. 

The florist was situated on the corner of a street full of old houses of which most were decently cared for. The wood was painted a faded lavender colour and the sign seemed to have recently been repainted and said 'Le Fleuriste' in an elegant, black calligraphy. The overhang was mostly covered with beautifully cared for, blue Wisteria and outside stood a small blackboard with a daily special in the same elegant hand. 

“It's been here for over fifty years Enj, it's not that strange it looks a bit unpolished. I just need to get my mum some flowers for her birthday, I've already forgotten her birthday two years in a row and she always got her flowers here.” Combeferre summed up without a pause. Enjolras nodded his acquiescence and as they reached the slightly run down building the blonde held the door open for his friend, notifying the owner of the shop by means of the bell-chime at the door. 

“So any idea what you want?” Enjolras asked his bespectacled friend who, at the moment, was looking quite lost among the vast variety of flowers and plants in the small shop. “Ehm.. I don't know..something...pretty?” Combeferre answered, sounding completely out of his depth. Enjolras sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he could be writing his paper right now, dammit. 

“I... I think I'd like that one, it's … it's a pretty flower.” Combeferre said, pointing at an, indeed, quite pretty flower Enjolras identified as a peony. Suddenly however, the flower started moving and both boys were startled to discover a head accompanying the flower. The head full of long-ish, light, curly ginger hair turned around to reveal the handsome, freckled face of a young man. Cerise pink lips quirked upwards to reveal a slightly crooked but dazzling smile as forest green eyes twinkled with delight. A laugh escaped the young man as he looked at Combeferre and blinked his reddish blonde eyelashes “You can call me flower” he paused, suppressing a laugh “if you want to.” 

As all three of them burst into laughter the young man stood up from his crouch and placed a wet cloth in a bucket that was stood on the counter. “Goodmorning, how can I help you?.” the boy, blushing slightly, greeted as he fiddled with the loose threads of his jumper which was a shade darker than his eyes, not meeting Combeferre's curious gaze. 

In the meanwhile, Combeferre had matched the flower in the boy's hair to the ones with the sign 'peonies' in them. To this day he can't believe how he remembered his elementary school floriography lesson but he did and remembered peonies, among other things, meant 'bashful' and thought this a very suiting word for the lovely young man in front of him. “That's a very suiting flower you've got there, Peony.” he told the ginger boy who blushed near crimson at the comment. 

Enjolras watched the scene in front of him with something akin to awe. He had never seen Combeferre flirt. Courfeyrac had once told their group of friends that he didn't think Combeferre was capable of flirting, being the serious scholar he was. This flirting did show exactly how much of a scholar Combeferre was, flirting with a florist through floriography. “I-is there anything I can help you with?” the boy Combeferre had so charmingly named Peony tried again. “I think my friend would like a bouquet of peonies, pun not intended.” Enjolras cut in before Combeferre would have another chance at flirting with the poor boy. “Oh.. that is quite lovely yes. Is it for your mother then?” at Combeferre's dumbfounded nod the suddenly more lively ginger went on “would she like pink or white or maybe a mix? I could also put in some green cabbage rose for you, unless you want to go along the floriography theme, although I doubt that... what with the peonies.” 

Combeferre didn't know quite what to think of the new florist but after a moment of astonishment at the sudden change in the boy's behaviour he regained his wits and anwered. “Although I'm quite ashamed I have missed her birthday for the past two years, I wasn't planning on actually going for an actual message. I trust you to make it something lovely, Peony.” 

By then Enjolras was gaping at the scene in front of him and was wondering what had gotten into his usually so stoic friend. The florist craftfully assembled a simply beautiful bouquet that Enjolras was sure Combeferre's mum would absolutely love and after Combeferre paid he dragged a dumbfounded Enjolras out of the shop, after saying goodbye to the blushing florist.

~

That evening, after dropping by his parents' for dinner and surprising his mother with the lovely bouquet which she indeed loved, Combeferre walked to the Musain from a nearby metro station. He thought about the lovely florist who had captivated him the moment he'd seen those twinkling green eyes and that absolutely charming smile. Now Combeferre wasn't someone who often fell for someone or had a lot of crushes. In the twenty-two years of his life it had only happened a couple of times and none turned out to be very long lasting relationships as most people had simply not understood his reserved behaviour. 

Combeferre never had the tendency to wax lyrical about people but the thought of the florist alone had him try to describe in his head the exact colour of the young man's lips, the intense green of his eyes, the crinkles around his eyes when he laughed so charmingly, and the golden bronze hue of his hair. And then there were the freckles. Before long Combeferre was wondering if the boy had freckles on more than just his face. He mentally chastised himself 'Dear God man, you're starting to sound like Courfeyrac.. or worse... Grantaire.' he thought to himself. 

In the meanwhile Enjolras was sharing the day's tale with Grantaire and Courfeyrac. He usually wasn't one to discuss these things but Combeferre's flirting had genuinely disturbed him. Courfeyrac was looking at him as if he'd grown a second head and Grantaire was simply chuckling into his glass. “Who knew our studious Combeferre could be such a Don Juan” the ravenhaired boy said as he set his glass down on the table and leaned back in his chair.

That night, not a lot of revolutionaring was done with Courfeyrac constantly bothering Combeferre about his “lover boy” and Grantaire trying to covertly stare at Enjolras and failing miserably. The rest of them was in various states of disorder with Joly and Bossuet hanging around the bar and thus near a working Musichetta. Feuilly was ranting to Grantaire, who was barely listening, about Poland and Bahorel was silently watching Combeferre and Courfeyrac, an amused look on his face. After a while he spoke up “Was it the florist on Rue la Vacqueríe?” he asked which caught the others' attention. “Yes, that's the one. My mum's been coming there for ages.” Combeferre said and Bahorel nodded. “Yeah, Jehan is pretty brilliant with flowers...he sure is a surprising person..” the man said which got several curious looks. “You know him?” asked Courfeyrac, who was eyeing the tall man suspiciously. “Yeah, I've seen him around the gym plenty of times and he made me a brilliant bouquet once, when I was at my wit's end...” Bahorel said, having fond memories of the surprising florist. 

The next day, Combeferre was in the library, looking for books on floriography and looking up sources on internet to compile a list of flowers with a suiting meaning. 

 

~

By chance, a week later, it was the passing day of his grandfather who was buried at the Pere-Lachaise cemetery, which was close to Le Fleuriste and Combeferre decided to drop by to get some flowers for his grandpa's grave as his classes were done pretty early on the day. It had been the sort of dreary weather that makes you look up to the sky in distrust and curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella and the moment Combeferre stepped into the little shop, the heavens opened. 

Jehan looked up from where he was scribbling in a notebook and blushed a cute shade of pink at seeing Combeferre standing in the doorway. “Good afternoon” he called, flashing a friendly smile before looking down at his notebook again. “Goodafternoon blue Periwinkle” Combeferre said, missing Jehan's smile as he looked around the shop. “What brings you here today?” the florist asked, laying down his pen. Combeferre looked up and met the other's gaze. “I planned on going by my grandpa's grave. It would be improper to arrive empty handed, wouldn't you agree?” 

Jehan pointedly looked towards the window where they could see the rain falling quite heavily. “Indeed, wouldn't you stay for some tea until the rain lets up. I'll help you pick something appropriate?” the florist asked quietly, almost hesitantly and again Combeferre was reminded of last time when he had called him 'bashful'. “Oh yeah, thanks, that sounds lovely.” he said, looking at Jehan's, unsurprisingly, floral mug. “What are you drinking?” he asked, as Jehan disappeared behind the counter before the running of water could be heard. “I recently picked up this lovely mix of cinnamon, cloves, ginger and white pepper.” he said from the back room, sounding extremely excited about this. “Sounds lovely” Combeferre replied. Although he was generally a coffee person, this tea did sound quite nice. 

A few minutes later Jehan emerged from the little back room with a steaming mug of pale tea. “I guessed you take your's without sugar or milk.” he said as he handed the mug to Combeferre who took it and inhaled the ridiculously delicious fragrance of the tea. “So Combeferre was it?” Jehan said, smiling secretively and Combeferre wondered how he knew his name because he couldn't remember introducing himself. “tell me about your grandpa.” 

Combeferre thought that might have been the strangest opening line ever, but considering the circumstances, it made sense. And so he told Jehan about how his grandpa, being a professor, had fed his love for books and knowledge as he was growing up. The man had been inconsolable after the death of his wife five years before he, himself had passed away. He had never really talked about his role model, not even with Enjolras whom he'd known most of his life and yet the words flowed so easily in the little flower shop. Jehan moved around the shop and collected a small bundel of single flowers before returning to Combeferre. “I don't know quite how well you've studied the languuage of flowers, but I think these flowers would quite fit you and your grandpa.” he said, artfully bundeling them together with a black ribbon. “I don't know all of them, would you, tell me?” Combeferre asked, intrigued by the other's thoughtfulness.

Jehan held the little bundle of flowers up “A white Arum is a traditional mourning flower but also means ardor, Bluebell means gratitude, Delphinium stands for big-hearted and fun, an Iris for faith, wisdom and valor as well as hope, and last but not least Harebell which stands for humility and grief.” Combeferre hardly knew where to look as Jehan had so easily understood exactly his relationship with his grandfather and summed it up in a couple of flowers. “You are truly a magnificent florist, Periwinkle.” he said, smiling fondly at the ginger haired man with the brilliant emerald eyes. 

After chatting some more and paying Jehan for his impeccable flower picking, Combeferre left for the cemetary when the rain had ceased. He felt a sense of peace with his grandfather's passing that he had not felt before. 

~

Weeks went by and every once in a while Combeferre found an excuse to visit the ginger florist who had become quite special to him. Each time he had another flower name ready for Jehan. After blue Periwinkle's early friendship he gradually went from white Pink's 'you are fair', ingeniousness and talent to purple Heart's Ease's 'You occupy my thoughts' and Gardenia's secret love and 'you're lovely'. By the time he had reached this point, Bahorel started inviting Jehan to the friends' gathering in the Musain every once in a while, mostly because everyone was despairing about Combeferre's slow courting and because Jehan turned out to be a very interesting and above all, genuinely nice person. 

Everyone was caught between smiling fondly and rolling their eyes as Combeferre greeted Jehan with a friendly “Goodevening, Eglantine” and Jehan smiled, having shared his poetry with Combeferre before. Their early friendship had steadily grown into a sort of mutual need to see each other every now and then, to share stories, knowledge or just company over an ever present cup of tea. 

No one had seen Jehan blush quite as crimson as the night Combeferre greeted him with a dazzling smile and a “Goodevening, Gloxinia.” and with that had confessed that he had fallen for the florist slash poet the first time he laid eyes on him. Jehan crossed the room to his friend and raised his hand to his hair and from between the tresses plucked a Dahlia to give to Combeferre and promptly kissed him on the mouth before seating himself next to the other boy, smiling at the round of applause from their friends.

That night Jehan took a smiling Combeferre by the hand and led him to his home above the flower shop and they shared sweet kisses until the fell asleep under the gigantic piles of quilts on Jehan's bed. (Upon asking about this, Jehan told him that the electricity wasn't quite as trustworthy as it should've been and that he was a cold kind of person.) From there on their relationship bloomed and the pair was scarcely seen apart from each other. Combeferre continued his floral names for his boyfriend and Jehan took to wearing that day's flower in his hair, when available. After a month Combeferre came home to Jehan, lounging on the sofa, writing in his notebook with a single red rose in his hair and Combeferre wondered how he could feel so much, so deeply, just from seeing this single token of Jehan's love for him. He bent over the couch and kissed the top of the other man's head “I love you too Jehan, my Prince's Feather.”

~

Epilogue:  
“Come on Grantaire, it'll be fine.” Jehan said, tying a red ribbon about a bunch of flowers. “Jehan, I don't know if I can go through with this. I mean, it might have worked for 'Ferre and you but ..he's...different!' the unruly haired boy said, thumping his head on the counter. “Here you go 'Taire” the florist said, handing him the small bundle of mostly red flowers and some four-leaf clover that, although small, was no less breathtaking.  
That evening Grantaire got to the Musain being more nervous than he'd ever felt and with a stuttered 'please' he handed Enjolras the flowers. The blonde's smile was the most radiant Grantaire had ever seen when he asked the brunette if he really meant it, to which the brunette nodded dumbly. “A red camellia, a red carnation, four leaf clover and a red rose, that's quite a message you've got here Grantaire.” he said, stepping closer to the other boy before leaning down “You're a flame in my heart, My heart aches for you, Be mine , and I love you, respect and beauty.” he cited from memory and although Grantaire momentarily cursed Jehan for his dramatic approach, all such thoughts were forgotten when Enjolras kissed him as passionately as he spoke.

**Author's Note:**

> List of all flowers and their meaning(s):  
> Peony - Bashfulness (also: Shame, Happy Marriage, Compassion)  
> Blue Periwinkle - Early friendship, early attachment  
> Arum - Ardor (also a traditional funeral flowers)  
> Bluebell - gratitude  
> Delphinium - big-hearted , fun  
> Iris - faith, wisdom, valor. hope  
> Harebell - humility and grief  
> white Pink - 'you are fair', ingeniousness and talent  
> purple Heart's Ease' - 'You occupy my thoughts'  
> Gardenia - secret love ,'you're lovely'  
> Eglantine - Poetry  
> Gloxinia - Love at first sight  
> Dahlia - Forever Thine  
> single red rose - I love you  
> Prince's feather - Unfading Love  
> red camellia - You're a flame in my heart  
> Red carnation - My heart aches for you,  
> Four leaf clover - Be mine  
> Red rose - I love you, respect and beauty.


End file.
